The Game
by MoonlightKCreations
Summary: Sixth grade has come, and the gang is settling into their new school lives. When a challenge to a baseball game between schools comes along, they must risk it all to protect their school's victory, as well as their livelihood.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Hey Arnold!

 **The Game**

 **By Moonlight**

 **Prologue**

The air seemed lighter than usual that morning, the boy thought as he stepped out of his home and took in a deep breath, the delightful smell of the city seeping in. It smelled of the usual combination of things. The smell of dew on the grass in the park across the way, the fresh ground coffee beans from the cafe down the road, and the odd mixture of exhaust from the passing vehicles. He walked down the same path he'd been walking for years. Taking a turn here. Rounding the corner there. Letting his legs lead him across the street and up the steps of the red building he'd been to more than a million times. A brief pause allowed the boy to take a quick peek at his watch before finally knocking on the green, hard-wood door before him.

"Right on time." he said to himself as the door opened, revealing the smiling face of an elderly woman.

"Good morning, young cadet! Here for Kimba?" Gertie swung a long fly-swatter in the air as she spoke.

The boy held in a chuckle as he stepped into the narrow hallway of the Sunset Arms Boarding House. "As always." he said to the woman behind him, who closed the door before looking around the hallway for a fly she'd been chasing. That woman was always doing the craziest things, so it didn't phase him when she nearly swung the fly-swatter into his hair. With a sudden buzz, the fly appeared from behind him and shot down the hallway, towards a window.

Laughing maniacally, Gertie raced after the fly, leaving the boy to lean over the stairway railings and call out to his friend.

"Hey!" he heard his voice carry through the length of the building and bounce back at him, "Hey Arnold! We have to go!" Tapping his fingers impatiently on the railing, he stopped to check his watch. 7:45.

Soon he could hear the sound of hurried footsteps heading down the upstairs hallway, his friend's oblong head finally visible at the top of the stairs. "Morning, Gerald." The boy greeted happily as he headed down the stairs. "We're going to be late. Let's go!"

"Hey! Who was the one taking so long?!" Gerald complained playfully as they exited the building and made their way towards the bus stop down the street. Arnold, looking down at his feet as he walked, only laughed at his friend's comment.

"You do know, Gerald…"

"Know what?"

"...you don't have to keep picking me up for school." Arnold looked over at his friend with a semi-serious look on his face.

Gerald only scoffed and smiled, "But I want to." He said matter-of-factly.

"Even though you're basically going further from the school to get me?" The football-headed boy raised an eyebrow at is friend.

"I don't think you heard me, Arnold. I WANT to." Gerald responded, trying to emphasize his words so that his friend would understand. "Besides, we wouldn't be riding the bus together otherwise." He finished, holding out his fist for Arnold to reciprocate their special handshake.

These early days of their sixth grade year had gone by so calmly, and yet, so quickly. It was amazing that they had kept most of their same classmates from their fourth grade year with them. And though Simmons stayed behind in 5th grade, their current teacher seemed to be generally tolerant of their classmates' odd behaviors. In fact, the newly certified and energetic, Ms. Tracy seemed to _encourage_ their 'individuality', and often let students 'express' themselves during a short period of time each day which she called 'Open Time'. During this time, the students would be allowed to bring their hobbies out and indulge in them; and it happened usually at the end of each day. When Fridays would roll around, however, the students were required to share a little bit about what they chose to use their Open Time for. The previous Friday, Stinky and Sid had so enthusiastically showed off their contraption made for Stinky's current pet turtle, Snappy Von Snaps II, named obviously after Stinky's previous pet turtle who unfortunately died from poisoning after swimming in a contaminated pool during their fourth grade year. The creation, made of popsicle sticks, rubber bands, lifesaver candies, and wood glue, supposedly allowed for Snappy to move faster across the floor. The candies being used as wheels, of course. This show-and-tell, however, ended in disappointment for the two boys, as Curly decided to jump into the circle to eat said candy-wheels.

Arnold chuckled to himself, remembering the incident.

"What's so funny?" Gerald turned to him, as they approached the bus stop.

"Nothing. I was just remembering-" before he could finish, Arnold found himself running into some sort of soft wall. Well, more like the wall in question came running into HIM at full speed, causing him to fall over onto the sidewalk below.

A groan came from above him as the mass which crushed him slowly got to their feet and dusted off their light-pink skirt. "Geeze, football-head. I swear this happens too often." said a voice in a sweetly-sarcastic tone.

Looking up at the figure towering above him, Arnold's eyes instantly lit up. "Good...morning…" he said slowly, as if in a trance of some sort.

"How long are you going to keep me here like this?! Criminy!" Helga spat, holding out her hand to help the boy up. A smile played on the corner of her lips. Her eyes cast a soft gaze at Arnold as he finally took her hand and got back onto his feet. "Finally," she said as the bus approached the stop in front of them.

Phoebe, who had been standing off to the side, watching her friend complete her 'daily ritual' of running into her boyfriend's best friend, only giggled as Gerald held out a hand for her to take as well. The two of them boarded the bus after their friends.

Taking a seat near the front of the bus, Helga made sure to scoot in as far as she could before patting the open space next to her for a blushing Arnold to take. He sat and watched as she pulled out her phone; the wallpaper sending shivers of delight down his spine. It was a picture of the two of them from when they'd just returned from their trip to the Central American country of San Lorenzo. The whole class had thrown another party on the roof of the Sunset Arms, much like the one they'd had when he found out they won the Helpers for Humanity contest. There was a lot of music, and food, and the occasional shenanigans that usually occured whenever Curly was present. And while the two of them had still been in a bit of shock from the events at the Green-Eyes Village, they had been a bit hesitant to pose too close to each other for this photo. Nervous as he was, Arnold kept a bit of a distance between them. However, his own father had requested they get closer, and Helga had taken the opportunity to courageously wrap an arm around his and practically smashed her cheek into his. The end resulted in a somewhat awkward photo of the two of them, blushing madly at the camera. He felt some heat creep up to his face at the sight of it on her phone, happy that she had cherished the memory as much as he did.

"CRIMINY!"

Arnold was startled out of his thoughts by Helga's very exasperated exclamation. Straightening himself up in his seat, he looked over at her with concern. "Is something wrong?"

Helga could only growl in response as she thrusted her phone into his face for him to read.

" _7:56am_

 _Baby sister! You forgot your lunch box! I'll bring it to your school, okay?"_

Reading it once more to make sure he wasn't missing something, Arnold gave Helga a confused look. "She said she'd bring it to school for you. It's not too bad." he shrugged.

"Not so BAD? The LAST thing I want is for Olga to show up-" she stopped herself and took a long, deep breath, closing her eyes before saying "...You know what? You're right. It's fine." She nodded to reassure herself and turned to look at Arnold once more, a genuine smile spreading on her face as he gazed at her tenderly. "Absolutely… nothing… to worry about"

"Uh, guys?"

The two of them jumped in surprise at the voice from in front of them.

"Unless you want me to drop you off at the nearest transit station, and have you catch another bus back to school; how about you stop making googly-eyes at each other, and get off the bus. We're here." Murray stated in his usual monotone way, as he reached for the lever to close the door.

"Oh!" Arnold exclaimed as he noticed where they had stopped. "I'm sorry." he said, with embarrassment, getting quickly off of the bus with Helga on his tail.

Already on the steps of PS 118, Gerald and Phoebe laughed watching the two exit the bus.

"Haha. Oh, laugh it up, why don't yah!" Helga rolled her eyes at the couple before chuckling as well. The girl raised an arm to elbow Arnold playfully. "Blame this one."

"Me?"

She rolled her eyes, "You WERE sitting in the aisle seat, Arnold."

The four of them finally entered the building and headed down the hallways towards their classroom. Chatter filled the halls. The sound of gossip and giggling from the girls standing at their lockers were particularly overpowering, however. That is, until a certain big-bellied boy came charging at the group as fast as he could, holding some sort of paper in their direction.

"GUYS! CHECK THIS OUT!"

The group looked up to see Harold coming to a stop before them, panting for air. He held up the sign above his head, which now hung low in an attempt to regain his energy.

"Uh. What's this, Harold?" asked a very confused Gerald, taking the paper from his friend's hand. " _Baseball Tournament_?"

The large boy nodded excitedly, his eyes practically bulging from his head. "They want… PS 118… to compete… with another school…" he said between breaths.

Arnold took the flyer and looked it over as well, "But PS 118 doesn't HAVE a baseball team."

"That's the thing!"

Helga raised an eyebrow at the boy.

"We play baseball!"

Clearing her throat, the blonde reached back to run a hand through her ponytail, "Harold. That's us just messing around on our freetime. We don't actually HAVE a TEAM." she stressed.

Silence befell the group as Harold took the flyer back in disappointment.

"We don't have a team, but…" Arnold's eyes began to light up, but he returned to his thoughts once more.

"But WHAT?" Helga pressed him to continue, "You have that look on your face again…like you've discovered the cure for cancer or something -what IS IT?!"

Finally perking up, Arnold beamed a smile at the group, "Let's enter!"

 **Moonlight: As requested by DeepVoice'06, here is chapter 1 of The Game! Feedback is most welcome!**


	2. We're In?

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Hey Arnold!

 **The Game**

 **By Moonlight**

 **We're In?**

"I'm telling you, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity!" the voice rang loudly from the office of Principal Wartz, echoing through the door and into the hallway.

It was an odd occurrence to witness at eight in the morning. Especially from Wartz's office. That man didn't seem to want to be spoken to before he'd had his morning cup of coffee-err 3 cups, to be specific. He needed a lot of caffeine to be able to function through the day. So much, that some students suspected he'd kick the bucket from having so much. But he did need it. These days, Wartz appeared to be growing more and more tired of pretty much anything and everything. So much so, that if one even uttered a PEEP about even THINKING of POSSIBLY DOING something that was against school rules, the man would snap almost instantly. Some students even found themselves in detention for over a month, all for just mentioning that there was graffitti in the boy's bathroom in the east wing of the school. This version of Wartz came about ever since that day in their previous year, when Curly demanded to be looked at as an authority figure, proceeded to clog all of the toilets in the school, and decided to lock Wartz on the roof of the school, without a phone or other means of communication. Principal Wartz had pounded on the door and called down below to all the passersby for some sort of help for hours upon hours. The fact that no one had heard him -well, more like they didn't want to acknowledge him- sent the guy spiraling into some sort of delirious mental state. When someone had finally found him, it had been past the end of the school day, when Helga had run up to the roof to get some privacy to speak to her locket, away from prying eyes. She had managed to open the door and take one step on the landing, when she heard the sound of footsteps rushing in her direction. "Don't close that door!" he had shouted, and ran right past her, letting the door fall closed behind him. Needless to say, Helga ended up stuck on the roof as a result. For the entire night.

After that incident, Principal Wartz had considered completely quitting his career in education, and leave PS118 behind forever… But of course he didn't. The attempt to leave had gone just about as well as his previous attempt to avoid the school. And now, here he was. Half gone.

So of course it came as a huge surprise to the unsuspecting students outside of his office to hear any noise at all at the beginning of the day.

"It's perfect for your students!" continued the deep, bellowing voice from inside the office.

The small group of sixth graders paused mid stride as their attention was captured by the unfamiliar voice in their principal's room. Each one of them glanced at each other, sharing a look of confusion and curiosity. Waving at the group to follow his lead, Gerald leaned against the door to press an ear to it; attempting to hear more of what was happening inside.

Helga raised an eyebrow at him, but watched as Arnold walked over to do the same as his friend. Looking over at Phoebe, who silently shrugged, Helga decided to press her ear to the door as well.

Principal Wartz's familiarly exhausted voice spoke, "I don't think so, Mr...uhh…"

"Nelson, sir. Raymond Nelson." The stranger interjected.

Clearing his throat, Wartz continued, "Well, Raymond, our school isn't the right fit for this program of yours."

"Please, call me Mr. Nelson." the voice grew a tad louder, as if he were scolding the man he was talking to.

Wartz rubbed his temples with one hand as he inhaled deeply, "Look, _Mr. Nelson_ ," he stressed the man's name, assuring him that he got the warning. "PS 118 isn't equipped for your program. The students haven't established any sort of _sports team_ -or ANY team at ALL-in YEARS!" Dropping both hands back onto his desk. "Also, if we take into account our lack of sport equipment, you have your answer right there. Have a nice day."

"We can make this happen!"

"Listen, I JUST explained to you how this is just NOT possible." Wartz began to bring out his stern tone of voice. The type he brings out only for those students who are being incredibly stubborn. "Now I KINDLY and RESPECTFULLY am asking you to take your leave, _Mr. Nelson._ "

The man stood up and took his jacket to drape it over one of his arms, and took one more chance to change the principal's mind. "I know you're not interested, Mr. Wartz, however I _highly_ encourage you to think about this opportunity. I can take care of providing your school with the necessary equipment - _free of charge_ , I might add- and all you would need to do is find students who are up for it."

Wartz inhaled deeply and shook his head. "Fff-FINE. If it'll get you out of my office, I will _consider_ it."

With a delighted chuckle, Mr. Nelson headed for the door. "Wonderful! I hope to hear from you soon!"

From the other side of the door, the students had very little time to react and ended up falling with a loud thud onto the floor as the door they had been leaning on opened. Taking a quick step away from the falling children, Mr. Nelson watched in surprise as they scrambled to get up onto their feet.

"Um, we were just-Uh-" Gerald tried to find an excuse to run away as he saw Principal Wartz walking towards the door.

Helga chimed in quickly, however, "I-i-innnnSPECTING the door!" she attempted to step past the man in order to fiddle with the knob, but Wartz had managed to shove the group out of his doorway and slammed the door behind them. "-...yeeeeep! Looks like it's working!"

The man looked at the group curiously and was about to greet them, when Gerald and Helga decided it was time to leave, before they could get into any sort of trouble. The last thing they wanted on a Monday morning, was to end up with detention for the rest of the week.

As the two were starting to head quickly down the hallway with Phoebe in tow, they didn't notice Arnold approach the strange man. An extremely curious look on his face as he did so.

"What was that about?" he asked bluntly.

Gerald and company stopped dead in their tracks as they heard him speak. Gerald smacked a hand to his face. "Arnold… you're a booooold kid. Crazy, but booooold." he said quietly, shaking his head. Helga raised an eyebrow at his statement.

Noticing the paper in Arnold's hand, Mr. Nelson perked up excitedly, "Hey! I see you've found my flyer!"

Arnold looked down at the paper before holding it up to the man, "This? Were you talking about having PS 118 compete in a baseball tournament?"

"Yes! Of course!" the man held out his hand for Arnold to take, which he did, hesitantly. "I'm Mr. Nelson. And you are…?"

The man was tall, about six foot, and had a very slender build. He donned a somewhat old-fashioned light-blue suit, complete with a classic gambler-style hat in a matching color. The guy was the spitting image of the 1920's. His face was clean shaven, making him appear to be in his late 20's, and Arnold could see his dark, curly hair peeking out from under his hat. Feeling slightly intimidated, the boy hesitated before responding.

"A-Arnold, sir."

"Arnold…?" the man pressed.

"...Shortman."

Shaking the boy's hand firmly, he let his smile grow wider, "Well, Mr. Shortman! Do you play ball?"

The boy nodded slowly.

"Well then, how would you like to play some baseball with your school?" he asked excitedly.

Shaking his head, Arnold gave a shy smile "Actually, sir-"

"Mr. Nelson!"

"-Mr. Nelson, our school doesn't have a baseball team."

The man's smile shrunk a bit.

Arnold continued, "But my friends and I play on our free time! I'm sure they would like to-"

"That's EXCELLENT! Excellent, Mr. Shortman! This is perfect, perfect." Mr. Nelson placed a hand on his heart and breathed a sigh of relief. "Listen, son. You must convince your principal to let you participate. I assure you, this is worth it! There are wonderful prizes for the winners."

Eyes growing wide at the idea, Arnold nodded, "Of course!" and the man quickly pulled out a business card, handing it to Arnold.

 _Mr. Raymond Nelson_

 _CEO_

 _Nelson Sporting Co._

Turning to head towards the exit, Mr. Nelson waved Arnold goodbye, "Gather your friends, Mr. Shortman!"

Once the man was out of sight, the rest of the gang quickly approached Arnold, who was inspecting the card. He had noticed how incredibly shiny the card was, as if it were printed on a special type of paper.

"What was that?" Helga asked, pointing a thumb over her shoulder down the hallway. "What classic movie did HE come from?" she chuckled at her own joke.

Gerald took a peek at the card in Arnold's hand, before quickly looking away, "My eyes! Is this supposed to be READABLE?!"

Sticking the card into his pocket, Arnold perked up. "We need to round up our baseball group." he said with a smile on his face.

Phoebe turned to start walking away as if to say 'well, I'm out!'.

"Do you ACTUALLY want to attempt this stupid competition?" Helga scoffed, her eyes rolling.

Turning to her with pleading eyes, Arnold held out his hand for her "Come on, Helga. It'll be fun…"

Feeling as if her heart was doing backflips inside her chest, she hesitated for a second before taking his hand and looking away to internalize a swoon, "I-I mean I GUESS we could...criminy…" _'Of course, My love~! If it will make you happy, then YES! I will help you~!'_ She thought, letting her face contort into her expression of complete bliss.

Arnold squeezed her hand in response, letting her know he was thankful she had agreed with him.

"Great. We're going to enter a baseball competition with a STICK and a TENNIS BALL. You REALLY thought this through, Arnold." Gerald complained, but before Arnold could respond, the morning bell rang through the halls.

 **Moonlight: Here it is! Chapter 2! Thank you all for the kind reviews and follows. It's really motivating and encouraging to see that you're enjoying the story thus far.**


	3. The Right Thing Isn't Always Right

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Hey Arnold!

 **The Game**

 **By Moonlight**

 **The Right Thing Isn't Always Right**

"And thus, as a response to this particular piece of writing, I would like for you all to think about a dream you once had and try to find its meaning. Or you can write about what dreams, in general, mean to you." Ms. Tracy's soft voice came out in an almost whisper as the class sat in silence after she read them a poem. "It is up to you how you structure your writing. Just do your best to put your feelings on the subject matter onto your paper." Looking over at Helga with a wink, she added "Of course, you are more than welcome to write more than one piece for this assignment."

Helga, sitting off to the side of the classroom, felt some heat rise up to her cheeks and scoffed.

"Alright! You have five minutes to brainstorm before lunch! Bust out those notebooks and get cookin'!"

Quietly pulling out her journal, Helga looked around the room. Arnold had disappeared at some point during the reading and hadn't come back. She figured he had gone to the restroom, but it had been taking him far too long. Chuckling quietly at the idea that he was just having a bad case of 'the runs', she returned her focus to the journal before her. Her pen beginning to flow across the page as the ideas soared into her.

"Hey, Helga!"

At the sudden noise in her ear, Helga pressed her pencil too hard against her page, that the point snapped right off, leaving a smudged looking 'r', which she now had to erase. She growled under breath as she ran the eraser over her paper.

"Helga!"

Turning quickly and suddenly, she faced the person calling her. "WHAT?! Can't you see I'm busy, here?! SOME of us are actually TRYING to PASS this class!" she said angrily, and folded her arms across her chest.

"Guys, I know it's free time, but you need to keep it down." Ms. Tracy said from the front of the room. "Keep it at a whisper, please!"

"Sorry! I-I mean...sorry, Ms. Tracy." Harold called out, and finished in a quieter voice, before turning back to Helga. "Did Arnold say anything about...the game?"

Helga cocked a brow at him. "Huh?"

"The baseball game. I heard Arnold wanted to do that competition..uh, thing. Did he start asking people yet?" his eyes expressed his complete interest in the topic. "Because, I-I could be an awesome catcher."

Annoyed, Helga put up a finger to stop him. "Woah, woah, woah! First of all," she started, "I have NO idea if we can even participate. Wartz isn't really showing signs of interest in this. And SECOND, if ANYONE is playing catcher, it's ME." she said as she pointed a very stiff thumb at herself. "You're better off playing third base, PINK BOY. Because NO ONE is going to make it there while I'M involved."

"What?!" Harold's eyes widened, but before he could say more, the lunch bell rang and the rest of the class began packing up their things.

Helga looked around for Arnold. Seeing he was still not back from wherever he was, she took it upon herself to pick up his belongings.

"Helga, wait!" Harold called after her as she exited the classroom and started for the cafeteria. "I don't think it should be up to you to decide who does what!"

She ignored him as she rounded the corner into the hallway that lead to the cafeteria.

 _BAM!_

Falling backwards onto the cold floor, she cried winced. "Watch where you're GOING, you-!" Her words were cut off as she looked up to see Arnold hovering over her. His arms on either side of her as he held himself up. The sudden realization of their positioning made Helga's chest tighten, and her limbs weak. "...I mean...w-where were you?" she asked softly.

"Guess." he said excitedly, still hovering over her.

"...the little boy's room?" she chuckled.

"No. I was seeing if the others wanted to join the team!"

Her eyes narrowed as she stared up at him, "You mean, Mr. Goody-Two-Shoes skipped class to do something completely unrelated to school? Are you out of your MIND?! If Miss _Tinkerbell_ finds out THAT'S what you were doing, she'll have you writing double the amount of prose she assigned."

"That's never stopped you from getting into trouble." he smirked at her, sending a wave of pure happiness through her.

Clearing her throat, she retorted "Y-yeah! Well, I actually LIKE writing. You KNOW that."

"Of course."

"Great! Now would you mind getting off me, before anyone SEES us?!" her face was now the brightest shade of red.

The two of them looked at each other in embarrassment, before scrambling to their feet. To Helga's surprise, Arnold brushed a strand of her loose hair out of her face before holding his hand out for her to take.

"Hey guys?"

Startled, the two blondes turned to see Harold standing beside them, having witnessed the whole interaction.

"Can you stop being all googly-eyed for a second?!"

Helga glared in the boy's direction, and wrapped her arm around Arnold's. "I already TOLD you, PINK BOY, I'm playing catcher."

"Arnold! You'd rather have ME play catcher, right?"

"As IF!"

Arnold looked at the two for a second before interjecting. "Actually, I think we can have a vote with the group to see who should do what."

Helga scoffed.

"But before we even decide that, we need to talk to Principal Wartz. Without his approval, we can't play."

"What about just calling that _blue penguin_ and have him go over Wartz? I mean, the guy's completely lost it recently! Why should we wait for him to give us the go?"

Arnold looked over his shoulder at Helga, "We need to do this right."

She rolled her eyes in response.

* * *

Gerald looked across the large room, his eyes darting from wall to wall, trying to find a good place to sit. After glancing around the room for the second time, he decided to just walk towards a random table, as his arms were growing weak from holding up his lunch tray for so long.

Before he could situate himself at a fairly clear table, he heard his name being called out from the other side of the room.

"Gerald! Over here!"

Gerald looked around for a moment before catching sight of Sid, waving his arms frantically. As he approached the table, he noticed all of the gang had gathered around it. Chairs were taken from other tables in order to accommodate the large group, as they gathered around, as close to the table as they could.

Gerald set his tray on is lap, as he couldn't get close enough to reach the table, then looked over the group again. "Uh...what's this?"

"Arnold told us all to meet 'ere, saying sumthin' about baseball." Stinky responded in his usual slurred speech. "I reckon' it has sumthin' to do with that fancy announcement I saw this morn'n."

The group mumbled in agreement to one another.

"I heard it's against other schools, and that the winning school gets some big prize." Sid stated.

Gerald hummed to himself, deep in thought. He didn't think they would actually go through with this sort of thing. Especially since Wartz was very adamant about rejecting it up front. But yet again, he knew his best friend, and when it was something interesting and fun, Arnold would definitely be all over the idea. His questions was, however, how they were going to convince their principal to let them participate.

"Hey, where _is_ Arnold, anyway?" he asked as he looked from the lunch line to the door.

As if on cue, the door opened, and the aforementioned blonde boy walked into the cafeteria. Helga in hand, and Harold trailing behind the two. Gerald waved them down to join the rest of the group.

"Sorry to keep you waiting."

"'Bout time. I was beginning to develop wrinkles." Rhona blurted out as she filed her nails.

Giving Arnold a 'really?!' look, Helga slid a couple of chairs toward the two of them and sat down. "Are you actually thinking of playing?" she asked, looking over at Rhonda with a raised eyebrow. "Not afraid of breaking a nail?"

"Oh, please, Helga! Don't even." she responded coldly and looked away.

Arnold cleared his throat loudly and watched as all eyes turned to him, "Um… So I gathered you all because I was hoping you would be interested in forming a baseball team for the inter-school competition." He held up the flier from that morning for all to see. "I think it will be fun, and we were invited to join, so…" Waiting for others to chime in, Arnold paused.

A few of them nodded in response, and others seemed to contemplate the idea.

He continued, "The only issue is that Principal Wartz doesn't seem to want us to participate, but I'm sure we will be able to convince him if we practice and prove to him that we can form a great team! He'll _have_ to let us play."

Helga rolled her eyes. Of _course_ that was his go-to plan. He's always looking on the bright side of things, anyway. How could his plan fail if he just _believed_ in the _spirit_ of the team?! She sighed.

"And that's where you come in! But I don't want to force you to do this. If you're not interested, you can say so." he finished, sounding a little discouraged at the end, seeing the contemplative looks on everyone's faces.

Gerald shifted in his seat, "But won't that be going over Wartz's head? We still need equipment, and I'm _guessing_ you're already prepared to talk to that Nelson guy. I just don't think that's a great idea-"

"Well, I'm all for it!" Harold chimed in loudly. "As long as I can be catcher."

Arnold perked up and smiled, "Actually, Harold, I think you would make a much better pitcher. That is, if you'll be alright playing the part?"

Harold seemed to think about it for a moment, before resigning himself to the task. "You really think I'll make a good pitcher?"

"Harold, you're the best pitcher I know!"

"I'm in too!" Sid said excitedly, "We'll show Wartz that we can handle this."

Stinky nodded agreeingly, "Yeah! We'll show 'em!"

Arnold's smile grew wider as he looked around.

Rhonda stood up, and appeared to be leaving the group, which caused the smile on Arnold's face to quickly fade. "As long as I can be way out, away from be major places the ball flies, I guess I can join you."

"You can play right field!" Arnold perked up once more, his heart starting to race with excitement.

Curly jumped out of his seat suddenly, and leaned over the table to get closer to Arnold, "In THAT case, I would like to be center field. I feel like I'm the best suited for it." he winked in Rhonda's direction, who only cringed in response and gave a quite "eeeew!".

Arnold gave him a blank stare before agreeing, "Well, you do throw really well."

Helga tugged lightly on the boy's plaid shirt, but continued to stare blankly out the window. "I get to be catcher."

He turned to her and chuckled, "Of course!" he said delightedly.

"Alright…" Gerald said from the other side of the table, "I'm in too."

The rest of the group happily agreed, and they began to assign the remaining positions.

"Stinky, second base."

"Okie-dokie!"

"Sid, left field."

"You got it."

"Nadine, third base."

"Okay!"

Arnold turned to face his best friend, "Gerald," he started with a smile, but watched as his friend finished for him.

"Short stop. Of course." Gerald reached out towards his friend, who greeted his gesture with their signature handshake. "But what's your plan for equipment? Like I said before, we don't have any."

Arnold shook his head and sat in deep thought for a moment before sighing, "There's really only one thing to do..."

* * *

 _Knock-knock!_

"Sir, you have a call on line 2." a female voice called from behind an office door, "An Arnold Shortman wishes to peak to you."

The room was dimly-lit. A shelf full of trophies sat along the back wall. Several bats and rackets and photographs of sporting teams lined the opposite side of the room. A large chair behind a victorian-style, mahogany desk, spun around.

"Put him through."

 **Moonlight: Let me know what you think!**


	4. The Ultimate Idea

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Hey Arnold!

 **The Game**

 **By Moonlight**

 **The Ultimate Idea**

"I STILL don't think this is a good idea."

Arnold frown at his feet as he walked down the road with his friends, as they did every afternoon. He had made a rash decision to call on Mr. Nelson for help. Deciding to drop the absolutely standard hierarchy of the school, and going passed his own principal was beyond him. It was as if his instincts of just getting things done took the wheel and steered him clear in the direction of bypassing the challenges and getting what he needed. His palm met his face in a what-have-I-done fashion, and he groaned quietly.

To his left, Helga watched as he silently scolded himself, and reached a gentle hand to rest on his shoulder reassuringly. He responded to the kind gesture by giving her a small smile.

"I just felt like it was… the right thing to do…? I don't even know anymore…" Arnold did his best to justify his actions before realizing his mistake and bringing his hand to his face again.

Helga sighed, "You're going to trip over your own feet if you keep blinding yourself like that." The girl took hold of his wrist and gently pulled his hand off his face. Her own face turning a slight pink as his eyes met hers. "You need to watch where you're going. I'm not always going to be your seeing-eye dog, footballhead!" She teased playfully.

Phoebe, who had been silently watching from Gerald's right, giggled at the interaction. Her own arm encircled her, still very new, boyfriend as she walked. Pausing her thoughts about the cute expression on Gerald's face, she looked over at Arnold once more.

"Hey, Arnold…" she started, somewhat quietly.

He and Helga both perked up to look in her direction.

"It was really nice of you to organize this team."

Arnold blushed slightly in response, "Of course!" he said a bit flustered.

"It's really nice of you, however," she paused to think of how to word things, "...I noticed you seemed to assign everyone to a position, except for yourself."

He nodded quickly, "Mhm." he hummed, "Well, I didn't think everyone I invited to join was actually...well, going to join. I mean, it's great that everyone was interested! So, I don't really mind-"

Gerald spoke up, "Arnold, it's YOUR team."

"Exactly. So, I will be team captain." he turned to Gerald, dawning his signature toothy smile of reassurance.

"Uh-huh… But wasn't the whole point of this for you to actually play?" Gerald raised an eyebrow at him.

Looking back down at his feet, Arnold nodded, "Yeah, but I-"

Stopping in her tracks, Helga shot a glare in Gerald's direction, "Look, tall-hair-boy, if Arnold says he's fine with it, then he's FINE. Criminy!" She crossed her arms over her chest and looked over her shoulder at the beeper emporium. "Well, I'm heading _home_ , I guess." She glanced over at Arnold, who looked a little stunned at how she defended him to his own best friend.

"Goodnight, Helga." Phoebe said happily.

"Night, Pataki. Remember we're practicing after school tomorrow. Assuming Arnold's idea went through."

Helga shot Gerald a little finger gun and a click of her tongue, letting him know she understood. Her eyes then landed on Arnold, who continued to stare down at his feet. She raised her hand to wave, but he looked deep in thought.

"Arnold, let's go, man."

The blonde perked up and shook his head, "Actually, I was thinking of staying with Helga for a bit. You guys go ahead."

Gerald shrugged and took Phoebe's hand, "Goodnight!"

Helga, who was now eyeing a dazed and confused Arnold, raised a brow at the boy before walking back towards him. "What's wrong? There's obviously something on your mind, here..." Nudging him softly, she did her best to meet his eyes.

Taking hold of her sleeve, he reached up to press his nose on hers and sighed. A deep shade of red rose into his cheeks, and somehow found its way onto Helga's face as well. They stood there for a moment, staring lovingly into each other's eyes, noses touching in a sort of eskimo kiss fashion. Helga could feel her legs growing week, and her knees buckled beneath her.

"Do you think…" he started in a voice that was almost a whisper, "...do you think this will work?"

Flustered by the smooth-as-silk sound of his voice, Helga stammered trying to find words, "D-do I think...I-I think... you-I mean…"

Watching her get embarrassed, he chuckled. Arnold wished he had been able to witness this side of her during all of those years of knowing her. Helga was someone who was very light-hearted and gentle, he had known this for the entirety of knowing her. This was different, though. This was more sincere. Precious to him. It was like seeing her for the first time over and over again. Each time she would smile or blush or showed him how much she actually cared, sent little waves of pleasure through him, and he absolutely loved it.

"Wh-what?! Do I have something of my face?!" she finally exclaimed as she caught him staring so intently at her, with a goofy smile.

Placing his hands on either side of her face, he pulled her closer once more, the goofy smile never leaving his face. "I...love you, Helga…"

Feeling as if her heart burst through her chest, Helga let out an involuntary swoon at his words. Her entire body failing her, she practically melted into his hands.

"Oh, Arnold~" she sighed, and he slid his arms around her, tightly.

He hummed in happiness, "You know what?"

"Hmm~?"

"I think we'll be great." he said reassuringly, more to himself than her.

She tried to stifle a laugh.

"What?"

"You overthink things, Arnold. Of course we'll be great! Pink boy is our pitcher, and _I'm_ our catcher." She gave him a teasing look. "But are you SURE you don't want to actually play? I mean, we can just kick Curly off the team. I bet that boy ends up showing up to the game completely painted in our team colors. He'll look more like the stinkin' _mascot_ than our center fielder."

He only stared back at her, with a sweet smile on his face. His cheeks now a brighter red than before. "S-say my name again…" he stammered shyly.

"Eh?!" Taken aback slightly, Helga jumped up at his sudden request. She checked out his very goofy expression and did her best not to laugh. "A-Arnold~" she said sweetly.

"Again." he said with eagerness in his voice.

Helga chuckled a bit before covering her face with her hands, "Arnold~!"

Taking hold of her wrists, he pulled her hands away from her face and looked straight into her eyes. "More."

Finally her amusement won and she held her sides from how hard she was laughing.

"I said more~!" he whined teasingly.

She continued to laugh, "You're being ridiculous now!"

"But, Helga~!" His eyes gave her a very desperate look, which only made her laugh harder.

"Nope!"

Holding out his arm for her, he laughed as well. "My Juliet~!"

"Aww, suck it up, yah Romeo!"

Taking his arm, they walked towards the emporium.

* * *

Principal Warts found himself pacing his office yet again. His usually alert eyes appeared very red and tired, as if he'd been lacking sleep. In his hand, a letter he had received from the Hillwood School District, which was somewhat wrinkled from how tight he was holding it.

The man adjusted his glasses as he lifted the piece of paper up to his face, sighing as he did so. "I guess it was bound to come to this sooner or later…" He said to himself in a solemn voice.

" _Eugene Wartz,_

 _It has come to my attention, as well as those of us here at head-quarters, that it is time for your review. As you know, this is a very strict, yet important process for all principals in our district. You may also know that your performance during the later part of this past school year, through today, has been less than substantial. This performance will play a big part in our in depth review of your last ten years as a principal here at Hillwood Public Schools. We know that you can improve, Eugene. And we will give you until the end of this school year to do so. However, I do want you to understand where you stand at this point in time._

 _I look forward to meeting with you this June,_

 _Cynthia Laclaire"_

Gritting his teeth a tighter and tighter as he read, Wartz did his best not to tear the paper into a million tiny pieces, and scatter them around the floor of his office. "I can't BELIEVE this woman!" He yelled at the letter in his hands, "She thinks she's doing me a FAVOR by "warning" me about this review? Of COURSE I know it's not going to go well! Of course I know that-!"

The door to his office opened slightly, making the usual, obnoxious squeak. He needed to get that fixed asap.

"Excuse me! Haven't you ever heard of knocking?!"

The man in the doorway cleared his throat, "My apologies. I merely wish to speak to you for a moment."

Wartz threw his hands in the air, knocking his glasses right off of his face as he did so. "YOU again?!" he exclaimed as he moved to sit at his desk. "I thought I told you we weren't interested!"

Raymond chuckled, taking as seat across the desk from Wartz. "I am well aware that you, sir, aren't interested in my offer."

"Exactly. There's nothing more to discuss."

"However…" he started, taking his bowler hat off and laying it on his lap, "...there is someone here who _is_ interested. A group, actually." he stated matter-of-factly.

Wartz sat upright in his seat, a confused look on his face.

"Mr. Wartz, you have a very enthusiastic group of young students who are very much interested in this competition, and I would like to help them achieve that goal."

Shaking his head, Wartz pressed his lips tightly together before blurting out a harsh "NO." A very determined look befell his face as he pointed Raymond to the door behind him.

"Listen, I...couldn't help but overhear that your review is taking place very soon." Raymond gave a knowing look, "By the sounds of it, it seems your students are...afraid of you. They don't respect you as their principal, but rather as someone who would punish them at a moments notice-."

"Stop right there, Nelson-"

"Mr Nelson, sir."

"-I see what you're doing, and I'm not going to fall for this. Now, get out of my office." Wartz all but demanded.

Raising himself to his feet, Raymond placed a hand on his chin in thought, "You know, this competition could do wonders for your reputation. A principal who pulled out all the stops to help his students achieve a dream of winning a baseball competition, when they didn't even have a set team to begin with… It could be a very ideal situation for you, Mr. Wartz."

The large man sat, pensive, at his desk. Raymond was right, and he knew it. He didn't want to admit it, though. Cynthia did say he would have until the end of the year for redemption, and this competition, this...baseball game could be the key to keeping his career alive.

"Those kids, Mr. Wartz, are very eager for your approval. I know, together, we can make this happen for them."

Before Raymond could say anything more, Wartz shot up from his chair, slammed his hands down onto the desk before him and leaned over it, towards the man.

"Where do I sign?"

 **Moonlight: I'm so sorry this took so long! I've been drawing a TON on my instagram (MoonlightKCreations). There are a few Hey Arnold drawings in there too, so check them out! Anyway, REVIEWS KEEP ME GOING AND WRITING FASTER!**


	5. The Good News?

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Hey Arnold!

 **The Game**

 **By Moonlight**

 **The Good News?**

As soon as the gang walked through the doors of PS118, they were descended upon. It was as if the guy had been waiting by the doors all morning, just to see them. It was definitely an odd and somewhat awkward thing to deal with so early in the day. It was very obvious that Wartz was there with some sort of a purpose, and it made the lot feel somewhat uneasy. And as if being bombarded wasn't enough, the guy decided to wave around some sort of packet as he spoke in an exaggerated volume.

"So I, uh," he started as the group made their way down the halls. His eyes darted back and forth at each of them. "Heard you and your little friends might have been interested in the, uh… the-"

Arnold perked up, but fought to hide back his expression of excitement, "Baseball tournament?"

"Y-yes! Yes, the, um, uh...baseball tournament that the _wonderful_ Nelson Sporting company is sponsoring." Wartz said, feigning interest.

The group stopped walking and looked over at Arnold, who stood confidently, with his arms crossed over his chest. A small smirk playing on the corner of his lips. He tilted his head playfully to the side.

"Well, I have you tell you kids, I thought _long and hard_ about this whole thing. Really, it is sort of a difficult thing as, you may all know, our school severely lacks in the sports department."

Gerald rolled his eyes. "Tell me about it…" he whined quietly, before taking a short elbow jab to his side. He looked over to see Helga glaring at him, pointing firmly at the conversation happening before them.

Wartz continued, "Of course, this made me reject the idea altogether. The whole thing would make a complete mockery of PS118, and our reputation would take a _nosedive_! We couldn't have that, now could we?" He paused to look around at the group of kids before him. "So, anyway, I got a visit from our friend Nelson the other day and he made quite the proposal."

Arnold watched with every intent to hear out his principal. His eyes grew wide with anticipation as he waited for the man to continue speaking. "...Yes?" he asked, urging him to go on.

"Aaaand it looks like he has something in the works for all of us here, at PS118… So I guess you could say that-"

Arnold excitedly cut into his speech, "We're competing?!"

"What?!" Gerald questioned loudly, as if what Wartz had said hadn't exactly sunk into his mind, "We're playing?!"

Forcing a laugh, Wartz looked over the group, who had stopped to watch him in the middle of the hallway. The majority of the kids were watching with the look of awe, however, the expression on Helga's face was nowhere near that of an excited or gratuitous look. In fact, her eyes seemed to be sending metaphorical daggers into Wartz's own.

She couldn't seem to grab hold of whatever the man was playing at, but she didn't at all trust him.

"Oh yeah?" she asked, "So you're saying you just SUDDENLY flipped the switch from one day to the next? What did Nelson DO?! Buy you a Mercedes?!" her words seemed to sting as the man straightened his tie and placed his hands on his waist.

"Nothing of the sort, little lady." he said, condescendingly. "It was merely a mutual agreement that he would be willing to pitch in on sporting equipment, if I allowed you lot to participate."

Gerald eyes him suspiciously. It wasn't like Wartz to give in to easily. However, the sound of being able to play something he felt he was excellent at, made it hard to pass up the opportunity. Nodding his head, he looked over to Arnold. "This is perfect!" he exclaimed, "I'm all for stomping some PS119 players into the ground!"

"This isn't _football,_ tall-hair boy." Helga retorted. Arnold only chuckled in response.

"So we can start practicing for this now?" Arnold asked curiously, looking up at the man. "I mean, when do we get our equipment?"

"Soon." Wartz blurted out before turning to walk towards his office; his key twirling on his finger. "We'll hear back from Nelson soon." he called out over his shoulder at the group of kids.

Arnold mentally high-fived himself for the accomplishment. His plan worked out perfectly! He felt unstoppable. However, upon turning to face his friends, he noticed they didn't all share the same level on enthusiasm.

Helga stood there, among the group, with he arms crossed over her chest, and her gaze to the side in an obvious scowl.

"Helga?" Arnold stepped towards her with concern in his eyes. "Is something wrong?"

Quickly, she shifted her weight and placed her hands on her hips. "As a matter of FACT- YES. Something IS wrong."

The group turned to face her, Phoebe reaching out to place a hand on her shoulder.

"I believe I share your concern, Helga."

Confused, Arnold raised a brow at the girls.

Gesturing fiercely towards Wartz's office door, Helga spoke again. "The thing is: that Nelson guy already OFFERED to let us use his stuff, and Wartz told him NO."

The boys watched her, still a bit confused.

"So WHY would he agree to it THIS time around?"

Gerald threw his hands up in the air and shook his head. "Who cares? We got the go ahead. Let's just play." he said with some exasperation.

Rolling her eyes and shaking her head, Helga blurted out a sharp "Fine." and began her walk down the hall to her classroom, leaving the rest of the group behind.

"Wait!" Arnold called out to her before running to catch up with the girl.

Turning to Phoebe, Gerald sighed. "Do you really think something's up? You know, with this whole thing?"

She only shook her head in response before pausing to think briefly. "It is odd, I'll admit. Whether it's something we should worry about or not, is unsure… But I think Helga is right in being suspicious about it."

* * *

As Helga walked up to Gerald Field that afternoon, she noticed most of the others were already there, stretching and practicing their swings. _'What gives?'_ she thought as she spotted Arnold on the other side of the field from her, giving directions and retraining their teammates. She walked up to him, a hand on her hip as she did so.

"Hey Arnold."

He turned to face her, a smile spreading across his face.

"I thought you were going to pick me up." she gave him a small pout.

Wrapping his arms around her briefly, he chuckled. "Don't be like that!" he said teasingly, as he pulled away from her, "I guess I thought you weren't really interested in this anymore… based on the way you were acting earlier…"

She shook her head at him, "Of COURSE I want to play, Arnold. I just…" she looked around at how enthusiastically their friends were practicing, "...It's nothing. Forget what I said before, okay?"

Arnold nodded hesitantly as he took her hand and walked her onto the playing field.

"Alright guys! Let's get started!" he announced loudly at the group, and they responded by taking their places.

"I have a question!" a voice called out from the group. Sid waved his hands frantically in the air, "When is the game? How long to we have to practice?"

"Uh, that's TWO questions!" Harold said mockingly.

Arnold pulled out a neatly folded paper from his pocket and took at look at it. "The game is next Saturday."

"That's not a lot of time…" Stinky said, somewhat gloomily.

Helga threw her hands into the air, "Well, let's all shut up and start playing then!"

* * *

It was dark when the team finally decided to call it quits for the day. Gerald parted with the group and headed home before Arnold and Helga began their walk to her house.

Their footsteps echoed in the empty street as they approached her doorstep. Helga paused at the base of the stairs to stare up at the night sky. The stars seemed especially bright, she thought, trying to pinpoint the position of Orion.

' _Oh thy twinkling lights,_

 _Burning in the blanketed sky-'_

Her thoughts here cut short by Arnold's soft voice. "They're beautiful, aren't they?"

She shifted to gaze to see him staring right at her. A sweet, and serene look on his face.

"Y-yeah…" she reaches out to place a hand on his cheek, "But I don't need those up there. I have the brightest star right here." Both of their cheeks flushed a deep shade of pink and Arnold chuckled for a second before sighing.

"Well, I was talking about your eyes." he smirked at her and he blush deepened, causing him to laugh. He watched as Helga struggled to find a response to his comment. "Who knew I would be able to take down Helga G Pataki with a simple compliment."

The two took a seat on the first step and watched the stars together.

 **Moonlight:** I started student teaching a couple of weeks ago, so I'm going to be very slow in updating this and The Day You Will for the next few months! D: Thank you for the support, as always!


	6. Ready Up!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Hey Arnold!

 **The Game**

 **By Moonlight**

 **Ready Up!**

"Quit your yapping and THROW THE BALL, Pinkboy!" Helga groaned at the large kid standing across the field from her. Her knees feeling like they were giving out from the excruciating length of time she'd had to stand in that position. "We don't have all day. The game is this afternoon! Sheesh!"

Harold, who had been busy chatting it up with Rhonda, rolled his eyes at the girl's comment and finally positioned himself to throw the ball at an exasperated Gerald. "Can't you wait?!" he asked Helga in an annoyed tone. "It's too early to even be out here. And it's cold!" the boy whined in her direction. "I wanna go back to bed!"

Finally taking a stand, Gerald dropped his bat and walked over to the boy before him. Placing an arm around Harold's shoulder, he sighed. "Look man… If we don't play a good game this morning, we'll never stand a chance against those guys from PS119."

"They're playin' us?" Stinky asked loudly, a hand scratching his head.

Arnold sighed and nodded. "We're going to be great! Don't worry about who we're playing against. Let's just practice."

"Easy for you to say." Helga muttered under her breath. "Let's get a move on!" she called out, "MY LEGS ARE KILLING ME!" Stretching herself out, she took a moment to pop her neck and reposition into her crouch. Looking out over the field, she could see a distracted Curly, shooting disgustingly amorous glances at Rhonda. She groaned, holding out her mitt. "THROW THE BALL!"

As if on cue, the ball went flying through the air, and without fail, Gerald swung perfectly!

 _BOINK!_

"YES! Gerald, go! Go! Go!" Arnold called out excitedly from the sidelines.

He passed right through 1st and 2nd base, nearly shoving Stinky out of position.

"I've got it! I've got it!" Sid cried as he ran after the ball soaring quickly through the air.

Gerald slapped Nadine's hand as he passed 3rd, and slid confidently onto home plate.

"SAFE!" Helga called out for the group to hear as Sid managed to reach the ball, which landed way out of the way. "Nice one, tall-hair boy! You managed to shoot that ball into space." She laughed mockingly. "But seriously, though. If we have you play like this, then we've got this in the bag!"

"Except, we won't actually be playing with a stick. We'll actually have REAL equipment, guys!"

The group of kids gave some cheerful yips and yays as they walked in to stand around Arnold. Phoebe finished taking a few notes on her phone before joining in as well. "Arnold. Everyone has been practicing so hard. And Gerald," she said, turning to face the boy with a slight blush, "your swings have improved so much since you started practicing for this! It's incredible how much power you have developed."

The boy smirked in her direction and pretended to swing as a way to show off his arm strength. The small girl giggled in turn.

"You're going to give me cavities." Helga said with lack of emotion in her voice, and a straight look on her face.

Harold's stomach rumbled loud enough for the entire group to hear. "I'M HUN-"

Rhonda cut him off, "Why don't we all get some lunch as a break before the REAL game?" She asked, dusting off her pants and sleeves. "We've been practicing for 5 hours straight today alone. I think we'll be fine."

Nodding, Arnold agreed and suggested they all clean up and meet at the burger joint down the road.

"Do you really think we're ready?" The blonde boy asked Phoebe as the group of 4 walked down the road. "I mean, we never really got professional training. Like a coach."

The small girl smiled as she scrolled through her phone. "Of course! You don't really need a professional coach, Arnold. You've been really good at running the team." she tucked the phone in her pocket, "Now, if you REALLY want to have the upper hand, you would add yourself to the field."

Helga raised an eyebrow. "Didn't he say he didn't want to be _in_ it?"

Phoebe nodded, "Yes, but I feel the odds would be even better if Arnold played." She pulled out her phone again, "I watched you bat during the breaks, Arnold, and your hits were 93% accurate." Scrolling through her notes, Phoebe nodded again, "Yes, our odds would be at least 60% higher if you were to bat for the team."

Curious, Helga peered over Phoebe's shoulder. "What's that?"

"It's just some notes I've been taking during your practice sessions. I have been keeping a record of how well each of the members of the team have been doing." She proudly displayed her spreadsheet to the group.

"Wow, Phoebe!" Arnold exclaimed. "You've been very observant."

"Of course!" she squeaked in response. "But as you can see, we have some underperforming members." Pointing to Curly and Rhonda's names on the list. "They don't do well when batting, and while they have improved in catching on the field, they have not done too well there either. Honestly, you would be better replacing one of them with yourself."

Helga scoffed, " _I_ could have told you _those_ bozos were failing at their job."

Shaking his head, Arnold sighed. "Phoebe, I can't just tell them they're off the team. They wanted to join. Besides, they need a captain, right?"

"I must say, I actually thought you were just texting your side-guy." Helga said sarcastically.

Gerald gave the girl a pat on the head before opening the door of the restaurant for the group. "You are amazing!"

The atmosphere was very positive when they entered the restaurant. Their friends were sitting at a large table, waiting for them to order their meals, chatting happily about their hard work. Nadine seemed especially chipper due to her success in getting people out of the game. For a first-timer at sports, she was learning quickly. Sid was raving over how he wouldn't have to scuff up his new shoes during the actual game.

The kid pulled off his cap and aired himself out, "We're getting uniforms!"

"Yeah!" Exclaimed Stinky.

"I wonder what colors they'll be?" Asked Sid, sipping his soda.

Stinky reached for a free menu and opened it, before saying "Well, I reckon' they'll be the same colors our school uses."

Rhonda squealed in disgust, "Gross! I will NOT be wearing _orange and green_. The combination simply doesn't work."

Arnold and the crew took a seat with the rest of the group. Helga grabbed a menu and immediately called over the waiter. "Lou, we're ready!"

"Actually, I think we'll be wearing the Nelson Sporting Co. colors." Arnold answered after some thought.

"Which are…?" Rhonda asked, looking through her phone.

"Purple and Silver."

The guys around the table groaned. Being young boys, they didn't want to be caught wearing _purple_ , of all colors. Of course, it was much better than the option of _pink_. However, they would have much rather be wearing green and orange.

As they began to order and settle in, the excitement-and dread, for some-began to show on their faces. It would only be a few hours before they were standing on the city baseball field, facing a mystery team they knew nothing about.

 **Moonlight: As I said at the tail end of my latest chapter of The Day You Will, I have finally completed student teaching, have graduated, been certified, and as of yesterday I found I've been hired for a substitute position! Now that all the stress is behind me, I will be able to find more time to write!**


	7. Enter The Enemy

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Hey Arnold!

 **The Game**

 **By Moonlight**

 **Enter The Enemy**

Nothing ever seemed more stressful than the feeling growing in the pit of his stomach at the very moment the group stepped onto the grass and made their way towards the field. It was a but much to take, but he didn't want to worry the rest of the group. After all, it was his plan to go through with the game in the first place.

Shuffling onto the dirt, he finally let out a sigh.

"Arnold?" Helga asked curiously, with a little worry in her voice. "Are you okay?"

Arnold looked around the field, trying to see if he could find Mr. Nelson, or the other team, but it was empty. This made the feeling of anxiety much stronger. Not a soul besides the group could be seen. "Y-yeah, I'm fine. We practiced so much, so I'm confident that we-"

"Where's the other team?" Gerald asked loudly. His voice echoing across the field. "And where's the Nelson guy?" He looked around as well.

The rest of the group began to murmur about the missing team, which didn't make anything better for Arnold. "They probably backed out, because we were just too good! We win by default!" Sid cried out in joy. Stinky took his arm into a dosey-do as they celebrated together.

"Idiots!" Helga exclaimed in annoyance, "Why would you think THAT?! The other team didn't even see us." She stopped to take a breath and look around the empty field once more, "Are we even sure we're at the right field?"

Arnold pulled out his phone and looked through his messages. "Meridian Park Field." He looked towards the park sign, "Yeah. We're at the right one."

"Then they either stood us up, or we have the wrong date. And I KNOW we're not wrong, because you only drilled it into our heads a million times." Helga rolled her eyes in Arnold's direction. She lightly nudged him before looping her arm around his and pleading silently with her eyes for him to forgive her teasing. "D-don't let that get you down, though, football-head. I mean, it's not your fault they're not here." She slid her arm out from around his, and wrapped it around his shoulder, squeezed tightly before turning to face the rest of the group.

He sighed, "You're right. They should have been here by now. I- I don't know what's going-"

"Mr. Shortman!" called a loud, familiar voice from across the field. The whole group turned to look in its direction, to see Raymond Nelson walking towards them with a group of kids in uniform behind him. A couple of the kids were lugging around a large, heavy-looking trunk.

Arnold's eyes widened in happiness, "That must be our equipment!" He exclaimed to the group, excitedly. "See? They're here!" He turned towards Helga, eyes beaming, as he reached out to grab her hand. His heart was beating in his chest and the corner of his lips kept twitching as he looked at her half-smile. Suddenly, a feeling overwhelmed him, so he pulled his hand back to his side. Helga caught his movements and rolled her eyes in mild annoyance. The smile fading from her face.

"What's WRONG with you? Don't you know how to be a proper boyfriend?"

A blush rose on his face as she gave him her signature Helga scowl. "I'm as new at this as you are!" He said quietly, leaning towards her, "You're my first… girlfriend." The redness on his cheeks seemed to brighten.

Helga blushed in return, turning to face the newly approaching group. "Yeah? Well, I better be your ONLY girlfriend. Now, come on!" She started towards the center of the baseball field with the rest of their team.

Watching her go, Arnold felt a sense of relief at her words. "Only, huh…?" he said to himself, before closing his eyes and scratching his chin. "I like that…" he chuckled to himself and started towards the group.

"Students of PS118!" Raymond announced as they walked towards him. "This is the team you will be playing against today." He gestured towards the group of kids in bright red and white uniforms. "They are the PS119 team, and they're ready to roll!" He made a twirling gesture in the air with his finger.

One of the kids stepped forward, brushed some loose, dark hair behind his ear, and offered Arnold his hand. "I'm Drake. Team captain."

Arnold took his hand and smiled. "I'm Arnold, and this is our team." He gestured towards the rest of the group.

A voice from the opposing team called out "Are you kidding me? They've got _girls_ on their team."

Nadine gasped in surprise, and Rhonda glared towards the crowd of red and white.

"Yeah?" Helga pulled back her sleeves, "Well, these _girls_ are going to kick your _butt_!"

"Helga!" Arnold exclaimed quietly, sending her a look that said 'please-stop'.

Helga turned to face him, scowling in response to his plea, "What?! They insulted us!"

Arnold looked back at the opposing team with an apologetic look on his face.

"Now now, kids." Raymond kneeled down to open the trunk. "As promised, Mr. Shortman. Here is the equipment for your team." He pulled out a shiny bat and handed it to Arnold. "Who's catcher?"

Helga raised her hand in anticipation. "Me."

Raymond pulled out a fancy looking glove and mask. "Break it in, Miss…"

"Pataki." she said, reaching out to take the equipment. "Helga Pataki."

Gerald looked around and noticed random people from the neighborhood were beginning to gather around the field to watch. "Huh… I guess we have an audience." He looked over at Phoebe, who was adjusting her glasses and looking around as well.

"There's a news crew too." she noted.

Surprised, Gerald, Sid, and Rhonda looked around. Sure enough, there was a truck from the local news station pulled up at the edge of the park.

"No WAY!" Rhonda exclaimed in happiness, "I'm going to be on TV!"

"Actually, Rhonda, I think you should-" Phoebe began to speak, but Arnold looked at her, pleading her not to say anything. "-should pull your hair back! So it doesn't get in your face when you try to catch the ball out there." She finished with a smile and a slight tilt of her head.

Peering into the trunk, Arnold noticed a lack of clothing. "Hey, uh, ?"

Raymond high-fived one of the opposing players and looked over at Arnold. "Yes!"

"There are no uniforms in here… Weren't we supposed to-"

"I _knew_ I was forgetting something!" The tall man smacked his forehead in an over-dramatic fashion. "I'm sorry , but could you play in what you're wearing? It seems as though your team is well dressed anyway."

Rhonda glanced down at the hem of her red dress and scoffed. "Really now?!" She lifted her feet up to display them, "I'm in _designer_ shoes! I can't ruin these!"

One of the boys from the opposing team made his way forward. He was quite tall, somewhat muscular for a 6th grader. His defined facial features resembled that of a young Ken doll, and his mid-length blonde hair sat in a low ponytail. He scoffed, "What's wrong? Afraid of getting a little dirt on your boot?" He raised an eyebrow at Rhonda, mockingly, before pretending to get a better look at her shoes. "They're not even originals. Why are you so worried about ruining a pair of cheap knock-offs?!" The boy laughed, holding his sides for support. "These girls aren't even worth it! They're just a bunch of pansies! Let's go home, guys. We win by default!"

The PS119 team laughed and cheered, throwing their hands in the air.

Growling in response, Rhonda pulled off her boots, and tossed them aside. She grabbed the hem of her dress, pulled it up to reveal her short leggings, and tied the dress around her waist. Securing it tightly. "Oh you're going to regret your words."

Helga's eyebrows shot up in surprise by the sudden change in Rhonda's demeanor. She'd never seen the girl get that aggressive with her clothing, designer or not. She took care of her clothes as if her life depended on them being pristine. And yet, despite the cameras and number of people quickly filing in to watch, Rhonda had decided to scratch her ideals and face the enemy team -BAREFOOT- of all things. "Wow." she said under her breath.

Arnold glanced over at his girlfriend, who was showing a look of newfound respect for the girl who was all about style. Noticing Helga's choice of jeans, a t-shirt, and denim jacket, he shifted his hat to center it on his head, and nodded. "I guess we'll play in what we have. Is everyone alright with this?"

Everyone nodded in response and proceeded to make minor adjustments to their clothing.

Raymond smiled reassuringly at both teams before heading over to the side of the field.

The crowd would be done loading in soon, and the game will begin.


End file.
